Of Unexpected Situations
by RenegadeThaumaturgist
Summary: Who is in charge of healing a Chief Apothecary if he falls? Sister Hospitaller Ephrael never thought she would ask herself that question, until she finds herself in a...peculiar situation. Oneshot, might be turned into multi-chapter depending on reception.


**AN: Iron Crows are a homebrew chapter, the genetic legacy of Salamanders and Raven Guard. The Hospitaller order is also a homebrew. I will give more details on both if I get the chance and energy to turn this into a multi chapter story. Any feedback would be appreciated.**

"Thank you, sister" The young conscript whispered as she administered a large dose of pain killer on him. She simply smiled tiredly as the young man dozed off. The sounds of lasguns, bolters and grenades came to the medpod as a low hum in the background, a constant reminder of her duties. She methodically moved onto the next soldier, entering data into the diagnosticator and providing care to the best of her abilities. She briefly wondered why there were not more medpods being set up by the Convent to provide help to the many wounded - at this rate, few minutes or so someone is being sent to her work station. It was a large workload for a single physician, her nurse servitor and servo-skull.

A whacking cough broke her from her musings. She turned swiftly towards the origin of the sound - one of imperial guardsman was attempting to sit up, covering his hands with the blood that came out of his lungs. She rushed immediately to his his delirious state, he attempted to speak.

"I-I...must get up...my c-comrades...E-emperor..."

"You are not going anywhere." She said, gently pushing him down. "Muffins, plug in the oxygen for this one." The servitor whizzed away, fetching one of the breathing masks. The Hospitaller concentrated on stopping the internal bleeding, performing various injections before giving the poor man blood transfusions. After the bleeding has been contained, she finally stood up straight and wiped her sweaty brow. She looked around and sighed; there was at least 180 soldiers in the medpod requiring care in this moment. She looked through the list printed by Selena the skull, taking note of the most urgent cases. She then transmitted a message requiring back up - even just a additional servitor would be extremely useful.

A loud banging sound was heard against the medpods' door-frame. She skipped quickly towards the entrance before stopping dead in her tracks. It was unmistakably the hulking figures of two Astartes, trying to fit their oversized bodies through the small door. They were carrying a third one on a makeshift stretcher. That one must've been higher ranked than the others for he had a cape made of iridescent black feathers. She was not aware that the Iron Crows were deployed here; She never thought she'd ever see a Son of the God Emperor in her entire life, let alone three of them. A small part of her wanted to kneel and prostrate in front of these demi-gods. Her more rational side immediately surveyed the extensive wounds on the fallen one. At several points on his torso, his power armour has been blasted apart, the surroundings blackened and the penetration sites gaping open. The smell of burnt flesh filled the room. Any mortal man would've died on the spot - and she silently thanked the Emperor that the injured was still breathing.

"Sister, this must be highly unusual for you. But we require your assistance." One of the Marines said in a neutral tone. She couldn't tell his facial expression from under the helm but there was something about it that unnerved her. She nervously glanced at the casualty, noting the prime helix badge on his pauldron. So that's why - she thought to herself. If the doctor fell, who would cure him?

"I am not sure if this is within my capabilities..." She hesitated for a split second, before steeling herself, "But I will try my best."

She beckoned them to follow her into her private lab. She figured that some privacy might be very important in this case. They dropped the stretcher on an empty spot; no beds in the medpod were meant to accommodate a Space Marine. She immediately scurried to his side, surveying the extent of the damage, Selena furiously printing the analysis. The most immediate wound seems to be the sternal fracture; the lower part of the ribcage has been blasted apart. Getting all the shards out will be a complicated task - she could also see that the inside anatomy was very much different from normal humans. The bone thickness itself made the skeletal structure look like it was meant to support buildings.

"We will leave you to your duties, Sister." One of the Astartes shifted in the background. The Hospitaller jumped, almost having forgotten their presence.

"May the Emperor guard your steps, Brothers." She dismissed them, while looking through her gear for disinfectant spray and biofoam. Considering she could only offer the most basic of first aid relief in this case, she was wondering how she would proceed after being able to stabilize internal organ damage. She applied the foam on the inner ragged edges to stop the blood-loss, before attempting to get the Marine on crystalloid packs. Because the consistency and coloration of his blood seems different from normal blood, she thought the isotonic solution would be her best shot at preventing haemorrhagic shock.

The needle bent when it contacted the skin. A bad bruise was forming on his lower abdomen, sign of internal haemorrhage. For the first time in her 12 years career, Sister Hospitaller Advance Ephrael was very close to a full blown panic attack; had her gloves not been on, she would've bitten her nails until bloody. She couldn't but think about all of the other people under her care right now - a lot of them being in critical condition. And here she was, standing still and being close to tears. It took eight weeks of constant labour under battle conditions and a wounded Space Marine to finally make her reach the very dreaded breaking point.

In that precise moment, as if on cue, she heard the voice of a young man announcing himself.

"Corporal Curdin Stgeir, Field Medic of the 294th Helvetican Regiment, Reporting for duty!"

Ephrael released her breath slowly, unaware that she had been holding it back all along. She did not dare to turn around to face the new arrival. She did not want him to see how bad the situation actually was and loose hope.

"You come in a very opportune moment, Curdin..." She paused, pretending to look like she had the situation figured out. She could sense the shock from her new helper at the sight of a wounded Astartes. "May I call you Curdin?"

"I-yes, Sister." He replied as if being broken out of some sort of trance.

"Can I trust your discretion on this?"

"Of course, Sister!" He beamed, as if proud to have the chance to prove himself. She smiled to herself, before giving the lad the necessary instructions. She needed him to care for the other patients while she focused her efforts on her more special guest. As the medic scurried away to his new tasks, she looked around for a possible solution to her predicament. The condition of the Brother Apothecary was somewhat more stable because she had limited the blood loss but the internal haemorrhage was still an issue. She looked at the open wound and an idea suddenly occurred to her - since his skin was too thick for needles, she figured that she could plug it on the damaged tissue at the edge of the gaping flesh hole.

Her attempt at getting a saline transfusion starting was successful. After placing an oxygen mask on the Marine, she noticed that his heartbeat started steadily to an almost normal rate. However it was strange because the heartbeat spiked at unusual intervals, as if there was an abnormally strong echo. It did not match any conditions she knew of of. She wasn't sure what caused the phenomenon, or why - but it was almost like the man had _two_ hearts beating. Perhaps it was one of those strange augmentations the Sons of the God Emperor went through to be at His image. She knew it couldn't be serious because his breathing was rhythmic and he showed no signs of impending myocardial infarction. After a few minutes, she realized that the site of the internal bleeding stopped expanding or darkening. There must be some sort of added coagulant properties to his unusual blood.

She finally decided that it was time for her to address the litany of purplish, glowing shards that were embedded throughout the wound. She programmed Selena to extract the microscopic sized ones while she herself would tackle the bigger ones. Her Medicae armband equipped itself with an integrated pair of surgical forceps as she set herself to work.

After a few hundred fragments were removed, the patient's eyes unexpectedly shot open. He looked at her, his bright red eyes unfocused - for a split second he must have thought her foe, for he attempted to reach his bolter. She stepped back slowly, raising her hands to show that she was unarmed - it took her entire being to suppress her instinct to jump back, not wanting to aggravate the situation any further. He still stared at her, as if not quite registering what she was or who she was.

"It's all right. I am here to help you. I am Sister Hospitaller Ephrael, of the Order of Our Lady of Compassion" She spoke gently, smiling to the best of her abilities "Everything is going to be all right."

He observed her for a moment, as if still unsure of his surroundings before letting his head fall back onto the pillow. She realized now that she never paid attention to his extraordinary physical appearance. His skin colour was of an inhuman ashy grey bordering on the translucent: upon close inspection she could see the intricate vein pattern underneath it, blackened by the epidermic coloration. It was inhuman but there was something beautiful about it - as if the Astarte was made of white marble. She saw that, from his insignia, that he belonged to the chapter located in the same sub-sector than Helvetica; the Iron Crows.

After the initial shock, the reality of her actions settled in - the situation was so surreal that it finally sunk into her when she was partially relieved of the stress. Her heart was suddenly filled with religious fervour as she knelt to the casualty's bedside, and prayed to the God Emperor.

She thanked Him for the blessing He gave her on this day. She thanked Him for allowing His Son to live under her watch. She begged Him to grant her His Grace in her arduous duties, so that all the ones under her care get their health re-established and live to see peace again. To see their homes again.

She looked upon the Angel in front of her and realized that perhaps simply stabilizing him wasn't enough. Surely his Brothers needed him and his skills as soon as possible - the tide of an entire battle could depend on how swiftly he could return to his mission. She knew that the Angels of the Emperor were more than just a flicker of hope; the survival chances of all the soldiers she has been attending to could depend on them. Her face set in a determined expression, she gave the Iron Crow a painkiller shot before administering a stimulant. Such stimulants were usually given to wounded guardsmen on the front line so that they could ignore their pain and charge at the enemy. As a consequence, their hearts usually endured palpitations by the end and in many cases cardiac arrest. It was not in the Order Hospitaller's habit to overlook the long term recovery of the ones under their care but she was still given such products in case of extenuating circumstances.

Given the size and constitution of the Marine, it was most likely that it wouldn't cause him to stay awake more than an hour. Realizing what she's done only a fraction of a second later, terror gripped her. She was practically giving "orders" to an Astarte. She took a calming breath, knowing full well that she entrusted her fate at the hands of the Emperor and gave him the shot. She needed the Marines' guidance, in order to treat him.

In the very same moment, Chief Apothecary Balaticaurus was still attempting to shake away the fogginess from his mind. He looked around; the surroundings were vaguely familiar but it made no sense. From what he could remember, he was last awake in the middle of a Dark Eldar incursion trying to get back on his feet and slay the enemy. A pale figure was hovering above him and on instinct, he attempted to jump up and grab his bolter.

And failed miserably. A blinding pain erupted in his stomach, causing him to stagger backwards and fall. The figure screeched in terror before throwing itself away. He could feel something being ripped off from his skin and briefly wondered what it was. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment before opening them once more, this time looking fully awake and aware. There was confusion on etched on his face as he looked around.

The figure sprawled on the floor was that of a small woman, her Hospitaller Insignia shining under the various lights emitted by the array of medical machinery around her. He held his bolter up, unsure whether or not the woman was tainted by Chaos. She must've been the one who took the liberty to hook him up on saline - no normal humans have ever dared to touch him, let alone prod him with needles.

To his greatest surprise, the woman seemed angry.

"You are in no state to get up!" Her tiny self berated him from her corner. "Your Iron Crow Brothers entrusted me with your care. They left no further instructions." She proceeded to rapidly explain herself, as if it was an attempt to take back her anger. "I did my best to ensure you wouldn't die..."

Balaticaurus was more than just taken aback by her reaction. A few tense moments passed between them, before he finally decided that she was no threat and dropped his bolter to his side. He could sense no taint - but she was definitely the first human to ever raise her voice at him since his mother passed away. The hilarity of the situation made him let out a painful bark of laughter. Here he was, a Space Marine, in his 248th year, being admonished by this tiny spit fire of a woman as if he were still a mere child.

The Sororitas flushed, her complexion turning into a bright shade of red almost matching that of her hair and her blue eyes shone with barely contained anger. Deciding to put his increasing glee aside, he thought it would be a good time to simply inquire more on the current situation.

"Where are the others?" He asked, after managing to calm himself down while she was adjusting herself.

"I do not know, my Lord." She simply replied, brushing off her previous emotional outburst. "But I assume that they had to go on with their mission, whatever it is."

It all came back to him in a flash - He was hit by a nasty Xeno contraption of unknown nature before falling. He remembered not wanting to give up and desiring to fight more, despite his Brothers' recommendations. Alaunus, his fellow Brother Apothecary, was the one who took him by surprise and injected Dormirolaprozam into the back of his neck to make him lose consciousness. He faintly remembered Alaunus saying that he was too valuable to go charging at the enemy face on while sustaining grievous wounds. They must've brought him here before continuing the fight...Without him. Emperor damn them all.

Cursing to himself, he decided to examine his wound and realized how much of a nasty piece of work it was. The Hospitaller did a surprisingly impressive amount of work in providing him care, considering his different constitution. Most of the blast shards were removed and the bleeding was successfully stopped. She was also daring enough to wake him up from his imposed slumber to ask for guidance. Needless to say, Balaticaurus greatly appreciated her efforts. What would've taken many days to heal without intervention was shortened to the length of one night.

"What was your name and rank again?" He knows he will remember it this time with certainty.

"My name is Ephrael." She answered, too quickly for her to sound comfortable. "I am a Hospitaller Advance from the Order Of Our Lady Of Compassion." She seemed taken aback by the question

He cocked his head at that and was overtaken by this strange urge of teasing her. On the bright side, he thought snidely, it would help him forget the pain.

"You did not ask for mine, Ephrael."

For a brief moment she looked like a deer caught in the headlight before flustering; "My Lord..."

"I jest." He offered her a crooked grin, revealing sharp teeth. "My name is Balaticaurus, I am the Chief Apothecary of the Iron Crows Chapter." He paused for a second, taking in her shocked expression as his position was being revealed. "-But I grant you the privilege of just calling me Bala."

This only served to fluster her even more as she attempted to object. "My Lord, that wouldn't be appropriate of me!"

"But I insist." His smile widened further. "Wouldn't you grant this meagre request of a lowly Son of the Emperor, My Lady?"

She angrily huffed, looking like a mixture of fear, vexation and stubbornness. In his opinion, this was refreshing. For once someone wasn't actively trying to treat him like a demi-god and that someone is incredibly fun to tease. He thought he could push her buttons a bit further;

"Dearest Ephrael, why must you ignore me so?" He feigned supplication. He could see that she was trying very hard not to snap at him.

"Al-right then. _Bala._ " Her voice raised slightly. She then squeezed her eyes shut and seemed to be taking a few calming breaths. He thought it was enough joking for the moment as he needed to focus once again on getting better.

"By the way, Ephrael-" He appreciatively rolled her name off his tongue. "Thank you for your efforts. With quick thinking, you have shortened my recovery time by more than three quarters." He moved slightly onto his side, the pain seemed to ease then. "This means that, thanks to you, I will be able to assist my fellow Brothers far earlier." He added. "I will never forget that."

In the opposite corner of the room, the Sister Hospitaller was at loss for words. In such a short time span she underwent a large array of conflicting emotions; she never expected to feel any sort of thing remotely similar to anger towards a Guardian of Man. The things he said though, if they were said by a lesser man would have caused her to treat him like a heretic. He spent a good amount of his time trying to get under her skin as she now realized and then suddenly, this. She tried to look for any signs of mockery on his face but couldn't find a thing - he looked more serious than ever. Such words were the greatest honour she has ever received in her lifetime; if it were any other day she would have rather activated her ring of suffrage in penance than even dare to think of such a thing. She would have knelt after being bestowed simple recognition from a Son of the Emperor and yet, in that specific moment, her pride kept her on her feet. Perhaps it was because of how, dare she think, _familiar_ he acted around her.

"You honour me greatly, Bala." She simply stated after a while, unable to keep the blushing off her cheeks. "I-I simply did my duty."

The Iron Crow just lay there for a moment, observing her with his red glowing eyes. It unnerved her greatly because they seemed to be piercing right through her and read every single one of her thoughts. She fidgeted a bit, fussing over the things that got knocked over when Balaticaurus jumped awake. His gaze trailed her every movements which did not help how jumpy she felt. After a dozen of minutes of just putting everything back into order, she finally decided to tackle the reason why she woke him up in the first place.

"So, about that wound of yours -" She started.

"Ah yes." As if taking the clue, he pointed out at a carried storage case on his side. "There's a jar of black goo solution - as well as a cell multiplicator. Little grey box with a green holo-screen."

She rummaged through the box before finding the objects in question. Such strange devices, the likes of which she has never seen. She looked up to him for confirmation and he nodded in approval.

"Do you have any more... appropriate pain killers?" Ephrael asked, once again cringing at the sight of the wound.

"I've run out of it." He replied, owlishly. The Hospitaller pursed her lips, feeling determined. It's definitely not the first time she has performed surgery without any sort of anaesthetic. She will have to simply try to be as gentle as she possibly could.

The Chief Apothecary started explaining the different steps required and functions of the medical tools he carried. The black goo was apparently a product to mend the "black carapace" - which is, to her understanding, an internal armour and a shell like interface between the Marines' neural system and their power armour. Without it being functional, the armour would be useless. The cell multiplicator did exactly what its name indicates; take a sample of damaged tissue and clone it. As a result, she was able to mend most of the internal damage before fixing the outer layers.

Meanwhile, Balaticaurus went on explaining to her all the different implants the Sons of the Emperor received and the stages of the transformation. Ephrael suspected that he kept talking to ignore the pain - and he gave her the kind of information she never thought she'd ever be privy to. She prayed to the Emperor all the way, for having granted her such a blessing and allowing one of his Sons to trust her so. Despite the gory details of the situation, she was incredibly thankful that she was the one doing it. Ephrael did not wish to dwell on it yet she couldn't help but feel incredibly humbled.

At some point, he even insisted that she worked more quickly and needn't be so careful, which was met with indignation.

After two hours of intensive surgical work, she finally placed one of the last bio-staples to close up the wound. She curled up on the floor, sitting against the wall on the space marines' side and letting herself relax for once in a very long time.

"Thank you." Balaticaurus whispered. She offered him a tentative smile, too exhausted to properly respond before falling into a deep slumber.

The Chief Apothecary looked at the girl sleeping for a while, ensuring that she had entered deep sleep before trying to establish communication with his brethren. He did not want to wake her up after all she has done - she truly deserved all the rest she could get.


End file.
